Chains On Us Both
by idevourbooks
Summary: Lucy has been passed around like an unwanted toy from one slave holder to the next, and is losing faith in the words her mother once told her. Then, at an auction, a mysterious, pink haired boy buys her and is more than what he seems - and the whispers of dragons only grow louder with each day she spends with him.


**Author's Note:**

**Hey guys! I know what you're thinking, 'why are you starting another story?' 'What is possessing you to do this to yourself since you still have so much to update?' 'How insane are you?' 'Do you enjoy drinking Jarritos?' (The answer is yes to that last one.) But let me just say, that this story will be the bosses sauce because I say it will be and I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Of course it isn't the most interesting chapter (it's the first chapter, for Mavis's sake), but I have a few hidden hints in this chapter as to what's coming up in the storyline of this piece of work, so keep an eye out for that...**

**WARNING: This is rated T for a reason! This will have some violence, a good amount of cusses that'll make you say, 'I am going to use that line on that chick I hate!', and will be lovey dovey up to the point that I may have to change the rating! ****(If I'm feeling up to it, then maybe XD) So take HEED LITTLE KIDDIES! **

**ENJOY!**

**Chapter One**

It was dark. So dark, I could practically feel it hanging over me like a blanket wrapped snug, yet the little light that seeped through the cracks of the trap door above me was still enough for me to make out the figures of the people moaning in pain around me.

Like me, the clothing on their backs were close to nothing, torn in every place possible to just keep the articles from slipping off, and just like me, they too were only skin and bones – some's condition worse than others. I unconsciously place a shackled hand up to feel just underneath my chest, allowing my frail fingers to trace the outline of my ribcage before frowning and allowing my hand to fall back onto my lap, confused as to why I was so conscience of my appearance and health if no one else cared.

My stomach churns with another unsteady lurch of the rotting floorboards beneath me, and a chorus of cries and moans respond in agony. The sounds of a few people puking sound throughout the room and I simply scrunch up my nose at the smell, unlike a few who join in with their own fits of barfing. The rocking of this damned ship was already abusive to our weak bodies, but add on the stench that hung in the air around us, that wretched miasma of old piss and watery puke, and everyone was bound to grow sick to their stomachs – especially if you were a new one.

I don't get that sick though, if anything, I've actually grown accustomed to this torture chamber of a life style. I mean, I've been here for at least six months and counting, though I don't know the exact amount for I stopped creating notches in the sides of the ship a long time ago when the traders found the small whittling knife hidden in my terrible excuse for a bra. Last time I counted the small, jagged notches there were 127, and with all of the days that have passed from then… I'm positive I haven't seen the sun in at least 180 days – 181 if I were to be precise.

Over those months I've seen people like me get on and off of this ship, each staying wordless as they're either shackled to the wall or dragged one behind the other in a line, a simple iron chain connected to their cuffs to keep them together as they struggle to walk up the stairs to the outside.

The outside… I wonder how it's going.

Ever since the so called 'dragons' (though no one has actually _seen_ one before) came, stuff has been more than messed up with our lifestyle – or at least, that's what I heard one of the merchants say. The whispers of the god-like, mythical creatures have been gossiped between slave holders during the slave auctions I was forced to be a part of over the years, as that was the buzz lately throughout the entirety of the human race.

Everyone was worrying about the end of the world as we know it to be due to these monstrous beasts and recounting back on stories they've heard of people losing their homes and money, becoming mere scum in moments as a dragon suddenly sweeps in and takes everything from a town or village. I have to bite my tongue most of the time as this felt no different as to what they were doing to me and my people – stripping us of every right and every belonging we have before forcing us into manual work labor with no profit. It was basically the same concept, and yet when _they_ were doing it, _humans _were doing it, it apparently wasn't bad.

I try to rack my mind of a time when I knew what the shoes of a commoner sliding onto my feet felt like or what it felt like to have dresses of all different silks placed onto my frame that people knew was of nobility, and yet no such moments in my life come to mind as I can only dig up memories of working in the fields of different plantation farms and the horrid memories of torture and death. This then reminds me that everything was stolen away from me before anyone even knew of my existence, as I was born into this 'business'.

I, Lucy (apparently slaves weren't supposed to have a surname – or a name at all for that matter, though my mother refused to call me 'Slave 777'), was born into this horrible life, never getting the chance to have a proper education or having clean clothes or being paid or being able to do _anything_ really, since I was just mere scum. I was an object, something that was to be passed from one greedy pair of hands to the next as I was nothing – just an item with a price tag clipped to my back. I was replaceable, insignificant, and there may have been a time when I thought I wasn't just some tool that when broken could easily be interchanged for another one, but those times a far behind me as haunting memories forever lurk in the back of my mind.

Memories that cause a wave of relief to wash over me as the usually heart-stopping, familiar creak of the trap door opening sounds from overhead and the thought of watching the trader's pick us out like pigs calms me instead of causing me to internally sneer with disgust as my face remains impassive on the outside, since this gave my mind the window to focus on a different problem at hand. I intently watch the handful of well-fed men clomp down the wooden stairs to the area of the ship's cellar where the majority of us were kept, and observe their motives as to what kind of slave they were searching for today as they sifted through the dark room, the preponderance of their grabbing obviously aimed towards the young women today as every young lady they spotted had their cuffs transferred onto the long, iron chain almost immediately.

I can feel my breathing pick up speed slightly as they begin to near my area, searching for more women, and I slowly let my head hang to make my golden bangs cover more of my face so they hopefully won't think to come near me as this worked every time, but I can feel my chest tighten with anxiety as the sounds of the floor boards creaking in front of me ring eerily into my ears before suddenly stopping. The sight of one of their grubby hands comes into view as they firmly grasp my chin, forcefully lifting my head up to face their sweaty, porky face that had amusement and a strong sense of smug radiating off of his beady eyes.

"Well hello there, Jewel bringer," he mumbles deeply so only I can hear, and I was already feeling violated by his eyes roaming around my body.

I narrow my eyes at him coldly, allowing a spiteful sneer to spread across my face as I spit in his eye, causing him to jerk back in surprise before he turns a tomato red. He violently transfers my cuffs from the wall to the chain where the other girls were, not even giving me the chance to get up on my own before he digs his fat fingers into my forearm, hauling me to my feet.

"I hope the man who gets you puts you in your place the harsh way, you little piece of shit," he hisses into my ear before shoving me forward and I let out a small huff of agitation, pushing down the need to kick him in the groin as I follow the girls in front of me to the stairs and onto the deck of the ship.

The outside was dark and gloomy, with thick, angry clouds bickering overhead and a light drizzle falling from them onto our barely protected bodies, causing me to shiver slightly as the rain was mixing with the chill the wind left behind on my skin, making me feel soaked to the bone. Mighty waves pound against not only the boat, but the dock we were at, causing everything to sway uneasily back and forth. I could only watch as some of the girls in front of me were falling like dominos as they could barely walk from not using their legs for so long, and the undulation of the creaky boat was not helping them one bit. I was having a little trouble walking myself, my feet barely gripping the slimy floorboards as they slid back and forth with the ship, but I refused to fall and look like a circus act in front of these animals that filled the deck.

The deck was filled to the brim with tons of different slave holders fat and thin, that all stared at us with a mixture of greed and disgust gleaming in their eyes. Hooters and hollers were escaping their lips along with repulsive comments that were being thrown our way, and I remain unresponsive to their words, not making the moves to even glance their way as I know it would only cause me more trouble – having gone through these situations on more than one occasion – though the poor girl in front of me obviously wasn't as experienced.

The girl was about my age, with ratty, silver hair that was cut unevenly at her jawline and wide brown eyes that were glued onto her face as she whipped her head around back and forth, glancing at the men with horror and fear painted across her tense features. The men simply laugh at her, trying even harder to scare her and getting a kick out of her frightened squeals as they almost jump on the pitiful girl.

A wave of sympathy overcomes me as I feel myself step in, glaring dangerously at the men who tried to jeer her on and watch as they back up a little, glaring challengingly at me. I simply sneer at them as I narrow my gaze at them, never breaking their stare as I lean in towards the girl in front of me who was looking at me in awe, before muttering under my breath, "Ignore them – that's the only way they'll leave you alone."

I glance at her, my eyes meeting her wide ones as she slowly gulps, nodding at me prior to opening her mouth to say something, until being cut off by the barking of one of the buffer slave holders standing on a barrel (that I'm surprised hasn't broken in half yet under his weight).

"You girls will be on your best behavior!" He hollers deeply, his beady, red eyes glaring menacingly at us as veins pop out of his bald skull furiously, along with the spit and sweat flinging off of him onto us, "You are to come when called, and act like the obedient little bitches you are! If you try to act like a wolf and not like a good little doggy, and try to bite one of us, trust me when I say you will have a horrible punishment coming your way! Don't try anything, because we will be on you things like the alphas we are! Now," he says, a loathsome scowl spreading across his face, "keep quiet and bring us some money!"

A fit of cheers come from the horde of slave holders, while the girls on the chain with me remain silent, a few casting nervous glances to one another. The buff man takes in the scene with a smug expression painted across his face before hopping off of his makeshift pedestal down to the first slave on the chain. He motions for her to continue walking and she quickly obeys, guiding the rest of us down an unsteady, rotting plank leading from the ship to the wet, slippery stones of the town's vacant port.

I glance around and spot a decaying, wooden sign hanging off of the side of a building, stating, '_**Welcome to Hargeon Port Town**_' in fancy, script letters. I feel myself unconsciously gulp as I rack my brain for information on this town, and I realize this isn't exactly a 'good' place.

I've in fact heard about this town – it was famous for its slave auctions and many came from far and wide just to see them. People were most savage during Hargeon's events and slave holders were thrilled to gain a spot in the 'shows' as the people here paid well if the selection was… well… women.

Disgusting, I know, and I don't know if I should be lucky I know how to read (courtesy of my mother, of course) in this moment since now I have more fear to choke down in order to remain seemingly unruffled to those around me.

This was going to be one Hell of a show.

We cease our walking on the damp cobblestones as we near the back entrance to a large building, going through the doorway one by one into the structure, transferring our shivering bodies from the rain into a badly lit room that was about as big as a large carriage. There was another door to the right that looked as if it melded into the wooden walls, leading to God knows where, and the girls were all lined up in a tight zigzag, taking up the entire space the room had to offer with the first girl standing right in front of the door that seemed to be a wall and me with my back against the door we came from.

The buff man from before stood directly in front of the poor, first girl and he slightly opens the door near them, saying incoherent words to a person on the outside. He then closes the door and unchains the first from the line, smiling widely as he grabs her roughly and shoves her out the door.

The rest of us watch as he keeps the door open a bit with his ear pressed up against the crack, hearing what was going on in the room the girl just appeared in. He seemed not to be that happy with what he was hearing as he barbarically grabs the second in line, and shoves her out just as roughly. This went on for a long time until it was only just the silver haired girl in front of me, the fuming buff man, and myself in the room.

I had my eyes closed as I leaned against the wall next to me, listening intently to the sounds of the room I was to enter with anxiety bubbling within me, as the sounds of men yelling crazy amounts of Jewels just barely reaches my ears. I feel as if this was a death sentence, since it basically was. Everything that would ever happen to me would always seem like the end, since it was never what I wanted.

Like in this moment, I want to hide away under a rock somewhere, I want to run away, I want no part in this, and I _don't_ want to relive an auction again. I_ don't_ want to go home with some fat noble man and I _don't_ want to be bought – I _don't _want to believe that I am only an object. I never get what I want or don't want though, if that's not obvious enough already, since I am nothing. My opinions and needs aren't valued nor needed, apparently, so nothing is ever in my favor really – if anything, I'm just a simple fly on the wall to some rich, fat man.

I allow a small sigh to escape me as I slowly let my thoughts leave me as my mind focuses on the amounts of Jewels being bid as they reach into the hundred thousands for the girl out there now, and I feel the girl in front of me shaking with fear. I crack an eye open and glance at her, watching as her short, silver hair trembles in the candlelight and her wide, brown orbs bounce from one object to the next like a hyperactive rabbit.

I can recall a time when I was in her position, when I was scared and unsure as to what was going to come my way, and when I needed someone to help me through troublesome times. It was one of my first auctions that I can remember, and I was up next for showing, just like her, and the emotions that were running through me were so alert and twisted, it was almost as if I felt like I was going to die from myself. I knew that everyone in the room felt the same way as me, but my mother was surprisingly good at hiding it, and she was the one who guided me through it.

My mother was in my position, and I was in the position of the girl in front of me now.

I can feel myself unconsciously place a shackled up hand to her quivering shoulder, causing the girl to jumps as she whips her head around to face me, her frightened eyes staring into mine. A tiny, warm smile graces my face and I begin to rub comforting circles on her shoulder as I whisper to her, "Calm down, you don't want them to see this side of you, trust me. One day, you'll get what reward you deserve, but for now, you need to take the blows as they come with a straight face. You'll be okay, trust me, just stay calm and everything will fall into place."

The girl's eyes search mine and I can only nod encouragingly at her, hoping that she will take my advice so she doesn't end up with the worst possible outcome, which is become the laughing stock and hate your life even more. I watch as her shaking slowly stops and her eyes flicker behind a calm façade that we both knew was fake, but was vital for her to make it through this moment in time.

She smiles back at me and I feel horrible that I couldn't do more for her, yet glad knowing that she would make it. The slave trader suddenly grasps her arms and unchains her from the line as he holds her in front of the door, giving her enough time to mouth, 'thank you,' to me before shoving her out the door. A small bud of warmth blooms in my chest, but it's cut short as he then tugs the chain forward, causing me to lose my footing, but I quickly regain it before touching the buff, red-eyed man.

I watch as he purposely puffs his chest out and towers over me as if to get a reaction out of me, but I simply meet his eyes lazily as a ton of alarms go off in my head, all screaming, 'DANGER'. He sneers at me and I raise an eyebrow at him, amusing him while at the same time listening to how the silver haired girl was doing in there, hearing a lot of shouts of different bids on her. She seemed to be holding up alright and it sounded as if they respected her (unlike the rest of the girls, to which they were giving inappropriate comments to – making the poor girls uncomfortable), which was good since it was the exact opposite of what I didn't want happening to her.

"SOLD! For 650,000 Jewels to Bidder 996!"

A sickening, yellowing grin spreads across the buff man's face and I gulp as he unchains my cuffs from the line, but instead of allowing him to rough handle me like he did to the other girls, I slip past him onto the wooden platform I was to appear on, walking with my head held high and my entire body emotionless. I can hear his cusses from where I stood center stage as I gaze out at the full room of men in front of me, who were drinking and laughing, and all staring at the entertainment – me.

Next to me, the auctioneer is already beginning his short rant on what I looked like – long blonde hair, brown eyes, et cetera – and from the corner of my eye, I spot something unusual… pink.

I let my eyes travel to where I spotted the foreign color, and my heart practically stops as my brown eyes meet sharp onyx ones. A man that looks to be about my age stood there, leaning carelessly with his tan arms crossed over his brawny chest against the wooden pillar, with nothing but a thin, white shirt to cover his muscular torso and black leather pants that ended in short, black ankle boots.

He stood out from the rest of the men there, and it wasn't just because the hair on his head was spiky and pink, but because he seemed to be poor like a pauper, unlike the rest of the noble men who were draped with possibly every article of fine jewelry and silks they owned. Probably the only thing that was expensive was the ivory, scaly scarf wound around his neck, and I hate to admit it, but he intrigued me ever so slightly by the way his eyes met mine in a different way than the rest of the men there. He didn't seem to hold the same intentions as them – his eyes weren't filled with lust nor disgust, but simply just plain curiosity, and if I were to squint, I could almost swear there was sympathy and worry mixed in with his over pooling eyes of curiosity and mystery.

So yes, I guess you can say I was intrigued.

"Starting the bidding at 30,000 Jewels," the auctioneer announced.

His ebony stare never wavers from mine as people begin shouting different amounts of Jewels at the auctioneer, each amount higher than the last. The auctioneer repeats back to the horde of men every price that's thrown his way rapidly and the numbers increase drastically and quickly, causing my insides to twist in an unpleasant manner.

I keep my gaze focused on him, though, knowing that the questions that were floating through my mind were reflected in my eyes, practically written out on paper for his reading. I also know that he was taking into consideration every question I had, from the, '_what are your intentions?_' to the '_why are you so different from the rest?_', but he just wasn't answering. Instead, he just simply narrows his eyes at me, almost as if he were thinking – about what? Only Mavis knows, but those eyes that told me everything, also hid so much from my view.

"754,000 Jewels!"

I feel my breath hitch in my throat at the auctioneer's words, _that much money?_ I glance away from his eyes for a second, trying to see who bid that _much_ money, to see a fat, porky man with a sliding toupee on his sweaty head and a distasteful mustache, puffing his chest out with pride and his eyes rejoicing as they roamed my body.

I swear to Mavis, I almost barfed up the nothing in my stomach.

"Can I get a 755,000? No? 754,000 going once…"

My eyes dart back to the mysterious man who was currently raising a questioning eyebrow at me, as if asking what I wanted him to do. I feel myself gulp as my eyes jump back and forth from the porky mess to the amused man as I can practically feel my seconds slipping away from me like grains of sand through my fingers.

"… going twice…"

Oh Mavis, I can already imagine how horrible being that man's slave will be. He seems to be a massive pervert judging from the way he is eyeing me, and I know someone out there is just laughing in my face at this moment. This was all a joke, wasn't it? To someone out there, this was a comedy – my life was hilarious to watch, wasn't it?

"… going three times…"

I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, waiting for the words that would be my end – the oh-so-familiar '_sold_'… but they never come, as resounding throughout the now silent room are the words that cause everyone to freeze. My eyes widen and I stare in shock at the pink haired man, the man whose voice is still ringing in my ears.

"One million Jewels."

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, so that was pretty intense, yet I am so excited to write this like the rest of my new stories! Please follow, favorite, or leave your thoughts and comments in the review section (constructional criticism is in fact accepted)! They really do inspire me to write! And I know there's probably some of you who are reading this and waiting for me to post an update for one of my other stories, (I am truly sorry for those who are being so patient with me!) but I'm dealing with massive writer's block for 'Waiting Here', so please just wait a bit longer! I will update as soon as I can and trust me when I say that 'Creatures in the Dark' is coming up right after it! I'll try to keep you updated as best as I can, my fabulous potatoes!**

**Peace!**

**-idevourbooks**


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